One Word
by Marina Lenore
Summary: One thoughtlessly spoken word can change *everything*. Rated for language.


"Good game again, Jim."

Spock not-quite smiled at his captain, an expression he would allow no one else on this ship to see. James Tiberius Kirk, however, had become more than adept at reading his first officer, and caught it immediately, rewarding the young half-Vulcan with blindingly brilliant smile of his own. He had bested Spock this time, in his own unusual way. The Captain certainly was inventive and confusing to play against, always keeping Spock on his toes.

"What's the score now, Spock?"

Jim's ocean-blue eyes were filled with mirth and delight, as he asked the familiar question. As usual, Spock only took a second to answer, the tally coming forth easily. "You are at three hundred and thirty four to my three hundred and twelve."

His captain grinned again, not surprised any more at his higher score, before yawning and stretching. It was their third game that night, a companionable habit that had developed a month into Spock's acceptance of the role of First Officer of the Enterprise once their five year mission had begun. At first it had been once a week, in the Rec room. Then it had moved to their quarters just before bed, three nights a week. And from there it had naturally shifted to a nightly thing. They would chat amicably about ship's business, personal trials (and _that_ was something new for Spock, having someone he could confide in and know he would not be judged by for being "too human" or "too Vulcan"), conundrums, and recent missions.

"I think that's enough for tonight, _Commander_." The word was said teasingly, and Spock not-quite smiled again. They rarely used their titles when not on duty any more unless it was done playfully or there was an emergency.

"As you wish, _Captain_."

The blonde human stood up, smiling that wonderful smile again, and Spock walked with him to the door, unaware of his friend's eyes roving over his body.

"Goodnight, Spock."

Jim waved at him before exiting the door, and Spock nodded his head, repeating the sentiment.

"Goodnight, T'hy'la."

Damn and blast! The word had slipped out before he could think, and Spock pleaded internally for Jim to once again ignore the slip. This was not the first time he had said it in his commanding officer's presence, but Jim had previously settled for a curious, searching gaze before dropping it, Spock's wishes achingly obvious through the look in his eyes.

No such luck. Before Spock could close the door, Jim came back in, walking gracefully and determinedly to the table and sitting back, beckoning to Spock as if it were _his_ table, _his_ room. The sight made Spock's chest ache, and he sighed (such a human thing, one he rarely indulged in, and his Captain's eyebrow rose impressively at hearing the layers of emotion laced through such a simple sound), walking over and sitting back down in his customary place.

"That's the fourth time, Spock. Care to explain exactly what "T'hy'la" means?"

It had been more than four times. It had been hundreds, thousands. Not out loud, of course, not where Jim could hear it, but Spock had finally stopped counting the times he referred to his best friend as so much more, in his mind. It had driven him mad when he first realised, and he had spent an entire three days avoiding his Captain as he came to grips with this development. Nyota had intimated something like this as to why she had terminated their relationship, but he had been unwilling to believe it until he almost slipped one night, the word seeking out his lips unbidden. He had had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop it from coming out, that first time.

Spock looked down at his long, graceful fingers for a few moments. He could not lie, would not lie. It was past time he finally made his feelings clear. But his courage was wavering, blinking in and out, until he looked up and fell into eyes that were a sea of warmth and curiosity and encouragement.

"It means many things. Well, not exactly many, not separately, more like it is multiple things combined into one meaning. Friend, brother..."

He hesitated, his bravery faltering for a moment, before he licked his lips and swallowed, another all too human gesture. One he would only allow his Captain to see.

"Other half."

It was too close to a lie for him. His voice lowered, softened, fear starting to show in his gaze, he just knew it.

"Soul mate. Beloved. Lover."

He refused to allow himself the weakness of closing his eyes, watching as the look in Jim's eyes turned from thoughtfulness to surprise to shock. Watching as that shock turned into a question, and as that question was seemingly answered, surprise once more, then blossoming into warmth and happiness and something that Spock was afraid to allow himself to believe.

"T'hy'la..."

Jim's voice was soft and reverent as he smiled softly, and his hand reached out. He took one of Spock's hands in his own, turned it over, and pressed his index and middle fingers against Spock's, his peach skin contrasting against the soft, pale green of his First Officer's.

Spock inhaled sharply, his gaze rapidly moving from their hands to Jim's eyes. The position was not quite correct, but he _knew_ that Jim knew what it meant. Had he not been teaching his Captain about his language and culture for the past six months? The Vulcan kiss was one of the first things he had explained to Jim, after some gala during which Jim had seen the gesture and questioned his First Officer about it's meaning.

His Captain must have seen the hesitancy, the fear, because he suddenly repeated the gesture, each touch filling Spock with love, desire, hope; emotions that he felt but were not his own, emotions mirrored in his T'hy'la's eyes, and suddenly their hands were linked and Jim's lips were on his own and he gasped, as Jim pressed kisses against his lips and cheeks and jaw and ears, whispering with that same reverent tone he had used before, hesitant at first but growing stronger and more confident with each repetition.

"T'hy'la. T'hy'la. T'hy'la. T'hy'la. Mine. My T'hy'la. I love you, Spock."

And suddenly Jim was holding his hands and staring at him with so much love and happiness that Spock thought his captain might burst, his grin was so wide and excited that it might split his face. He asked a question before Spock could respond to his outburst.

"How long?"

"Five months, two weeks, four days, twenty three hours, fifty seven minutes and six seconds. Once I came to terms with it."

The answer was automatic, and Spock blinked at it. Had it really been so long? Jim laughed, pure joy escaping from his mouth as he stared lovingly, almost disbelievingly, at his first officer.

"Only you would know right down to the second."

Spock allowed himself a small smile, wanting to see if his beloved's eyes could shine any brighter, and they could, they did, Jim's eyes shone like stars. Bright and beautiful and possibly the bluest blue that ever existed.

"You just smiled! Like, really smiled! Oh god you are fucking beautiful, do you know that?"

"As are you, T'hy'la."

Spock blinked in surprise as suddenly his hands were empty and Jim jumped into the air, his fist pumping upwards in a gesture of excitement and triumph that was very familiar to him. "Yes!"

Then he stopped, turning to Spock with an urgent look. "Pinch me. Before you ask I have not lost my mind and I am not kidding. Just do it."

There was an order laced into those words and Spock was so used to obeying his Captain's orders that he did so with alacrity, pinching the outstretched arm.

"Ow!"

Then, "YES! I'm not dreaming! Phew! I was worried for a second there!"

The simple statement shocked Spock to the core. "You... what?"

"Dude, I've been in love with you for like, fucking ever. Maybe not really but it sure as fuckin' hell feels like it. Of course I've dreamt about this. Well not this exactly, like, wow. It's a thousand times better than my dreams. And that _word_. It's perfect. It's completely, utterly, totally fucking perfect. I was so confused because you're so much more than just a friend and like I think of Bones as a brother but not the same way I do you and of course I love him but I'm not **in love** with him like I am with you but at the same time oh God I can't even fucking think, this is just the best thing. T'hy'la."

Spock smiled again at his enthusiastic outburst, and stroked a pale green hand softly over one tan arm. That gained Jim's attention rapidly, and he stared at the warmer hand, then back at Spock.

"I love you, Jim, my T'hy'la. This is not a dream. I assure you that when you wake up in the morning and come to my room to fetch me for breakfast, I will give you a kiss, and you will remain my best friend, my brother, my other half. The fire that cleanses my soul, the love that burns through my veins, the light that I can touch. Someone I care about far more than I should be willing to admit."

At the word kiss, his hand caressed slowly down Jim's arm, and he touched their fingers together to demonstrate, still in awe that he had someone in his life that he was willing to be so intimate with. He had never kissed Nyota in the Vulcan manner. It had been one of the things that led to their relationship ending. She had known far before him that their attachment was only temporary.

Jim gave him another blinding smile and kissed him, softly, his lips a caress against Spock's. "Speaking of waking up, we have Alpha shift."

"Yes. We can discuss this further at a later time."

"Yeah."

"Jim..."

Spock's eyes sought out Jim's and he did not restrain the happiness from shining in the dark depths. "Thank you, T'hy'la."

"I should be the one thanking you! I never thought... Well. I never thought that even if you ever felt that way, you'd admit it."

"Someone has been teaching me that it is more important to balance the two sides of my mind than it is to try and suppress my human emotions."

Jim had taught him that, after he had unintentionally gotten intoxicated on chocolate and his emotions had come pouring out of him, so many confusing feelings overflowing from his mind, the things he had tried, futilely, to lock up and keep under wraps. Thinking about it, that night had likely been the catalyst for them.

Still, tonight was yet another torrent of emotional upheaval, and he needed to meditate, centre himself, and sleep. So he led Jim to his door, their hands barely touching, and gave his Captain a kiss, both human and Vulcan.

"Goodnight, Jim." His voice was warm, laced with love and contentment.

He got another of Jim's beautiful smiles in response as the door opened. "Goodnight, Spock. T'hy'la."

Spock nodded minutely, his eyes showing the emotion that was otherwise held in check now that they were visible. "T'hy'la."

Then he was left alone, and he prepared to meditate, after embracing the happiness coursing through his entire being. To think, one misspoken, unthinking word could forever change his life.

In the very best way.


End file.
